Troy Deleted Scenes Part 2: Waiting for You
by HaloFin17
Summary: The second installment of the Troy Deleted Scenes series. Achilles has another unexpected visitor the same night Priam comes to ask for Hector's body. Based on a real scene from the 'Iliad'. Please enjoy, and feel free to review!


**Summary: **The second installment of the "Troy Deleted Scenes" series. Achilles has another unexpected visitor the same night Priam comes to ask for Hector's body. Please enjoy, and feel free to review!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Troy" or the _Iliad_, but I sure love both of them.

**Author's Note: **Alright, here's our second deleted scene. The events portrayed here are actually in the _Iliad_, and it's one of my favorite parts in the whole book. I had faint hopes of seeing it in the movie, but wasn't at all surprised when they left it out. So now I'm inserting it myself, and I hope you like it! Enjoy!

**Troy Deleted Scenes, Part 2:**

**Waiting for You**

"Give him back to me."

Achilles stared unblinking at the old man seated beside him – King Priam, who had come at his own risk into the Greek camps to plead with Achilles for his son's body. Once the Myrmidon commander had learned of his unexpected guest's identity and purpose, the aged monarch's words had become little more than a distant hum in his ears, and his mind drifted indomitably to the unhappy subject of their discussion.

Prince Hector of Troy lay stiff and cold outside the invincible warrior's tent, his body mangled and disgraced by Achilles' enraged hand. The warlord still felt no remorse over the deed, yet somehow the joy of vengeance had been disgustingly short-lived. Patroclus, Achilles' cousin of only seventeen whom Hector had slain just the previous day, had been rightfully avenged; but now that his Trojan nemesis was dead, Achilles had found himself suddenly devoid of purpose and direction. All that remained to him now were his tumultuous thoughts that refused to let him rest in peace.

"Let me wash his body," Priam again entreated. "Let me say the prayers. Let me place two coins on his eyes for the boatman."

Achilles rose abruptly, the old king's words encroaching upon an area far too sensitive for discussion. Every ritual Priam had mentioned, Achilles had done himself only yesterday. He had cleansed the blood from his cousin's lacerated throat, dressed him in clean white robes, and placed the copper coins over his eyes when he had finished the prayers for easy passage into the land of the dead.

Had he been deprived of the opportunity to perform those reverent actions, he would have been furious, stopping at nothing to see that Patroclus was given the honor he deserved following his death in battle. Perhaps old Priam's request was not so outrageous after all. But could he grant it after what Hector had done?

"Meet me outside in a few moments," the godlike fighter said finally when Priam had been silent for several moments, simply watching the man who had killed his son with beseeching eyes. The king nodded his acknowledgment of the younger man's command and waited.

The night air was cool on his flushed face as Achilles stepped outside his tent and wandered toward the crashing waves. All else in the camp was still and silent, and Achilles was glad, for he needed the peace and quiet to think clearly. But the steady rhythm of the waves helped. They were soothing when all else around him was in turmoil.

He stood looking out over the endless ocean, remembering with sudden sorrow the countless times he and Patroclus had swum in these same blue waters on the shores of Greece. But then sorrow gave way to anger, and Achilles' heart hardened. No! He would not give Hector back, not when the Trojan champion had taken so much from him. Priam had said that Achilles had taken everything from him, and now the golden warrior scoffed to remember those words. 'Everything,' old Priam? _Hector_ had taken everything from _him_, and now it was only just that he return the favor. Why should he return Hector when Patroclus would never be returned to him?

"Cousin?"

Achilles whirled around, heart catching in his throat at the sound of a voice he had thought never to hear again, and stared. Patroclus stood behind him, waiting at the very edge of the water so that the lapping waves just reached his feet. He appeared real enough at first glance, but there was a certain translucence about his form and a barely perceptible glow to his skin that was entirely unnatural. If not for this, Achilles would have forgotten in an instant that his cousin had ever died.

"Patroclus…" he breathed, disbelieving, and took a step closer to the figure before him, but the younger man suddenly cast his eyes downward.

"I'm sorry, cousin," he whispered, ashamed. "I should never have betrayed your confidence and taken your armor, or led the Myrmidons into battle." The dead boy's eyes darted nervously about the sand as he struggled to find the right words. "But it seemed so right at the time, I…I didn't know what would happen, or that Hector would be right there. I – please forgive me, cousin."

"No!" Achilles exclaimed with sudden vehemence, closing the remaining distance between them with a burst of speed. "Don't you dare ask for forgiveness, Patroclus, I won't have it! It is I who have failed you…Cousin, please forgive _me_."

He hesitantly reached out to lift the boy's head which still hung low in dejection, but when his fingers came to where his cousin's face should have been, they passed right through. There was nothing but air.

Achilles frantically tried again, a solid lump forming in his throat, though deep down he had expected no less. Patroclus truly was dead, and this unearthly encounter was the last they would see of each other outside of Hades. Perhaps it was all a dream…

"No, you aren't dreaming," Patroclus' voice broke into his morose reflections. "I cannot feel you either, cousin, no more than I can feel these waves. I hear them, and I see them, but I do not feel them. Although I wish I could…"

The boy's words failed him then, and he trailed off, tears flowing gently down his cheeks as he looked back at his cousin, bright blue eyes desperate and full of longing.

Achilles was sure something inside him snapped when their eyes met. His chest ached, and his stomach was twisting itself into painful knots. It hurt, but still he refused to cry. He could not stop himself, though, from dropping helplessly to his knees in front of his cousin, hands groping through the air as he sought to grab hold of the boy's hands. Oh, what he wouldn't have given to feel this child, warm and living, just once more!

"It's all right, cousin," Patroclus spoke quietly through his tears, which now fell harder as he looked down at his old guardian and tried in turn to grasp the other's hands, knowing all the while that it was no use.

"It's all right," he said again. "I don't mind, really. Besides, we cannot change this. But, Achilles, please let Hector join us here. We see him there on the other side of the River Styx, unable to cross over because his body has not been properly cared for. But I don't believe he can see us, watching him."

The boy shuddered, though Achilles could only see the movement and not feel it. "I was there for a time, as well, until you burned my body, and it is not pleasant place to be. Thank you for taking care of my body quickly, but Hector is not so fortunate. He has been there for days while you've mutilated his body. Please, cousin…"

"He killed you!" the elder warrior interrupted hotly. "He _killed _you Patroclus! I cannot forgive him for that."

"I have." Those two words, softly spoken, did more to break the immovable will of Achilles than any command to ever pass a king's lips.

"It was my own fault that he did not know who I was, and I truly do forgive him," Patroclus went on. "You also have my forgiveness, of course – though I cannot understand why you would ask for it. But please let him come to us. In the underworld, Achilles, all are equal. In the end, we are all waiting for you."

"For me?" Achilles echoed, recalling the time he had told the boy about his dreams. "Why?"

"Don't you already know? We wait because you are our brother, and we will not move on without you."

The youth's gaze flickered out over the rolling waves of the incoming tide, then back to his cousin.

"Achilles," he continued earnestly, "I must leave you soon, but before I go, there is one more thing I wish to ask of you."

"Anything," the godlike warrior insisted. Indeed, he would do any and all things imaginable if it would only keep this boy here with him a little longer.

"Tell Eudorus, or Odysseus, that after you have died, our bones should be buried together in that golden urn your mother gave you before we came here. Do you remember, cousin?"

Achilles nodded, blinking rapidly. He would not cry! "Yes, I remember," he replied.

"Thank you, cousin" Patroclus said softly, a faint smile appearing on his face despite his tears. "And until then, I'll be waiting for you."

With that, there was a strong breeze and a large wave came crashing in, pounding up against Patroclus' knees. And as the waters receded, they drew the image of the boy with them, sucking him back like a mist into the dark currents he had always loved as a child. Then he was gone.

Achilles stared at the space where the figure of his cousin had stood only seconds before, his mind a blur of confused emotions. He staggered away from the water as though in a daze, blind in his focus to carry out the youth's final request. He grabbed a large blue blanket and stumbled back to where he had stowed Hector's desecrated body.

Kneeling beside the prince, the lord of the Myrmidons began to wrap the body, intent on removing this corpse as soon as possible from his possession. But when only the dead man's face remained uncovered, the invulnerable Achilles finally broke, and he sobbed over Hector's unresponsive form, his shoulders shaking as he at last wept out his grief.

His cousin was dead, as was a noble prince. But Patroclus was right – they would all be reunited ere long. Achilles sniffed, sighing bitterly, and his tears ceased, never to fall again. He covered Hector's bloodied, misshapen face.

"We will meet again soon, my brother," he whispered and then willed a final, unspoken request of his own. _Please – wait for me…_


End file.
